“I count life just a stuff To try the soul’s strength on.”

Brightest truth, purest trust in the universe, all were for me, in the kiss of one girl.

One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, sleep to wake.

Lofty designs must close in like effects.

Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp, Or what’s a heaven for?

Of what I call God, And fools call Nature.

Autumn wins you best by this its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay.

All’s love, yet all’s law.

At last awake from life, that insane dream we take for waking now.

You never know what life means till you die; even throughout life, tis death that makes life live.

Strike when thou wilt, the hour of rest, but let my last days be my best.

My business is not to remake myself, but to make the absolute best of what God made.

A minute’s success pays the failure of years.

God be thanked, the meanest of his creatures Boasts two soul-sides, one to face the world with, One to show a woman when he loves her.

Progress is The law of life: man is not Man as yet.

I hold that a man should strive to the uttermost for his life’s set prize.

There are those who believe something, and therefore will tolerate nothing; and on the other hand, those who tolerate everything, because they believe nothing.

The atom has taught me that the little things do count – most.

I have one life and one chance to make it count for something… My faith demands that I do whatever I can, wherever I am, whenever I can, for as long as I can with whatever I have to try to make a difference.

There comes a moment when we all must realize that life is short, and in the end the only thing that really counts is not how others see us, but how God sees us.

Cheerful givers do not count the cost of what they give. Their hearts are set on pleasing and cheering the person to whom the gift is given.

When I’m worried and I can’t sleep I count my blessings instead of sheep.

And though the years before I die Stretch out interminably, I Shall only count my life in truth As that brief hour of happy youth.

Surely I could never be certain of how many stars I’ve counted in the sky or of how such tiny particles can be build into wild-eyed stories like Aquarius and Cassiopeia. I could read you as I would the constellations and never tire.

I’m not that big, physically. I’m just big where it counts – I got a big heart!